


devil outta me

by Amber



Category: Lovecraft Country (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon-Typical Gore, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Fingering, Fix-It, Kissing, Magic, Spoilers, racism mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber/pseuds/Amber
Summary: Ruby is going to live the life she wants, whatever the cost.
Relationships: Ruby Baptiste/Christina Braithwhite
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	devil outta me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Black Magic Woman by Santana.

It's not their first time together, not by a long shot. But it feels it. This time not the one-night-stand passion of William pushing her down onto the stairs, but still rough, still self-assured. Christina's hands on her wide hips, teeth in her lower lip. Ruby thinks yes, and yes, says yes, and yes. There is something sacred in the way she opens herself to be devoured, and all the ugliness in the world can't touch her here. No thoughts of skin, or blood, or the hard pews of the church with Mama beside her as the preacher decried sin. It's like the music: in this moment, she is enough.

Later, naked in that big big bed, Christina stretches like a playboy centerfold and smiles a little at Ruby. It's nice, she thinks, nice to be wanted and powerful.

"Here's what I need from you," Christina says. "I want to use your body."

"I'd say you've done quite enough of that tonight," Ruby replies smartly, pillowing her head on her own soft bicep, lashes lowered in contentment and suspicion both.

"You know what I mean." Christina pushes up onto an elbow, sheets sliding down her skin.

"Don't I have to be dead for that?" Ruby points out, and Christina slithers closer so quickly.

"No, no. Unconscious? Yes. But just for a little while. Just while I finish the rituals." She trails those perfectly manicured rich girl nails over Ruby's collarbone. "It won't hurt. And after it's done we can be together. Anywhere you want. Anyone you want."

Ruby isn't convinced, but mostly because the wheedle in Christina's voice sounds like a hustle. She knows how to spot a hustle, between Lettie and Mama. But seeing the trap isn't the same as avoiding it. Sometimes if it's nice enough you step right in. "You promised you wouldn't hurt Lettie," she says flatly. "But what about Atticus? Dee? Miss Hippolyta? They're like my family too."

"Because you're all black?" Christina asks, some avid fascination in her eyes. "Because I got the impression you put aside that community."

"It's not something you can just put aside." Ruby sighs, catches her wrist as her hand wanders lower, willing to be convinced but not wanting to be tricked with sweet touches. Her skin is so thirsty sometimes she thinks she'll go mad with it, and it blinds her. "I don't expect you to understand."

"No? That's why you should let me do this. I want to understand. And what better way than to be you for a while? Live through your experiences, the way I gave you the power to live mine?"

Ruby's mouth twists in skepticism, but she knows Christina meant it. Hell, the woman let herself be beat to death and thrown in the river just to experience something Ruby said was outside her understanding. The others may only see her as wanting power, but Ruby knows power's just a currency to her, whether its whiteness or masculinity or money or magic. What she buys with it is knowledge. What she wants is to know everything. And that includes everything about Ruby.

It's hard not to be bewitched by that.

"You can't let them know I let you," she says.

"If they find out, I'll tell them I made you," Christina reassures her.

"And you can't hurt—"

"Your sister? I gave her the mark of protection already. I've saved Deanna. I've helped all of them. The only thing I need is a little of Atticus' blood, and he agreed to come willingly with me. I don't need to trick them. I just need to make sure it's all going smoothly, and the best way to check up on that is if they don't know I'm watching them," Christina says. It all sounds so reasonable. She kisses Ruby's shoulder, and everything is warm and a little sleepy, the smell of sex so thick in the room, and Ruby trusts her. God help her but she does.

"Mm," she says, feels her mouth giving her away with a smile. "Convince me."

By which she means: do that thing with your thin little lips on my nipples again. Find that spot inside me with your fingers that gets me shook out to the hipbones and knees, feels like you're rearranging me. Kiss me again, suck my tongue. And Christina understands. And Christina obliges.

Going over the edge feels like such good oblivion, better than drink and better than god. Better orgasms than with any man who's put his dick in her. When Christina blacks her out that feels a kind of good too, one quick spike of fear, unsure, but it's too late and the nothing swallows her.

When she wakes up later she's alone. Assumes she's been left behind — unsurprising, but still hurtful. She detaches herself from the machines, plucking off needles and cables like mosquitos, then finds her heels and cardigan and just heads on home. What else is there to do?

"We thought you were dead!" Lettie says, holding her so tight. Ruby pats her back reluctantly, tired of these dramatics. Tired of a lot of things. And she only gets more tired when Lettie explains what they did.

Christina dead. White people unable to use magic. It feels righteous — and a little short-sighted. White folk are still gonna have guns, and dogs, and money, and more than that they're gonna have the power. They'll own the stores that do the hiring, rent the houses, run the country. "They don't need magic to persecute us," she scoffs.

Angry. She's angry, but Ruby's never been any good at grief. They fight again, she and Lettie, like they always do. When Tic tries to step in she just leaves all together. What's keeping her here but family? What's keeping her here but blood?

At least they tell her where to find Christina's body. She carries it back to the mansion, cradled and crushed in her thick arms. Bloody, but she's gotten used to blood on her skin. 

Christina had seemed to think that there was no way to bring back the dead, that they could only be used in vengeance. But Christina is small-minded. Ruby could take the easy way out, make herself a Braithewaite potion and live the rest of her life as an heiress with some literal skeletons in the attic. But if she's going to keep getting her hands dirty with this magic business, dirtier than they already are, then she's going to do more and better than any old white man could.

She lays out Christina's remains on the bed. Treacherous bitch with a silver tongue, probably always intended to kill Lottie. Ruby loves her more than god's grace, more than the power of whiteness, more than family and more than song. It's a sickness, how much Ruby loves her.

"You just wait there, sweetheart," she says, bends to kiss what remains of a perfectly pale cheek. "There's work I gotta do." And after it's done they can be together. Anywhere and anyone. She can feel the new possibility of power in her fingertips.

Ruby straightens and starts the rest of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, all feedback will be printed out and consumed to sustain my human form.


End file.
